


Circles

by iceice_ty



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Bonding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Horror, M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceice_ty/pseuds/iceice_ty
Summary: theory- crop circles were proof of demon summonings.experiment- an attempt was made at summoning a demon.conclusion- there is something following us.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le
Kudos: 21
Collections: NCT Halloween Fest Round 1, NCT Spookfest 2020





	Circles

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE HEED THE TAGS!!! There is a mildly graphic depiction of cattle corpses and blood in this fic, if you wish to skip this description stop at "It smells dead!" and skip to "I...I don’t know. Maybe something stole cattle nearby and brought it here?”
> 
> This was written for NCT Hallows Fest, prompt NCTH023, so prompter I hope you enjoy where I took this story! It was my first time writing Jeno/Chenle and I hope I got the bonding you wanted!  
> This fic is also dedicated to @10softbot because without the masterpiece that is Sanctify My Sins this fic would not have been written. I learned a lot about horror in fic from that work and it was the inspiration behind some elements of this one. 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy!

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” Chenle whispers, the words jarring in the quiet of the road. No one had spoken in the past half-mile, the only sounds the rustling of brush and trees and the soft scuff of their feet against dusty dirt. A few moments pass and it’s Renjun who finally answers. 

“It’s definitely this way.” He gently flaps the computer print-out in his hand. “We have another quarter mile before there’s a right turn.” Chenle looks disappointed at the answer but says nothing else. No one does, for fear of attracting unwanted attention from something lurking in the shadows. The corn lining either side of the narrow road they travel towers taller as the full moon rises higher. Jeno and Mark, ever responsible, have flashlights aimed ahead, the beams of lights never straying to the sides. Donghyuck had asked why much earlier in the evening and Jeno and Mark shared a look before simply saying “no.” Jeno had grown up around the fields and dirt roads while Mark had spent summers working at his grandparent’s farm. They knew the corn, respected it and the legends surrounding it.

🌾

Ultimately it was Renjun’s fault they were out here. At the start of the semester, all five of them had met in a dark corner of the library. It was a coincidence, really, although Hyuck & Mark and were old school friends, and Renjun, Chenle, and Jeno were floormates. But they hadn’t expected to all converge on the ancient-looking town history section in their university library. Renjun was chattering about a book he needed about a local legend as he turned into the aisle when Hyuck had piped up from the other end, asking Mark if it was the same legend he used to tell Hyuck when they were small to scare him. Chenle popped around a corner, dragging Jeno behind him, and begged to be told the story. They settled down together to listen to Mark and Renjun spin the tale, and never separated afterward. 

They were sitting in what had become _their_ corner of the library a week ago when Renjun glanced up from his laptop. “Show of hands, who would go looking at crop circles with me next weekend?” Chenle’s hand shot up before Renjun was even finished. Hyuck hesitated, but his hands went up slowly as well. 

“What’s this about?” Jeno asked, hand still settled on his textbook. Renjun shrugged casually.

“Just doing some research. There are reports of crop circles in this region going back to the late 1800s. At least three or four pop up every year. There were some less than a month ago.” Jeno had to suppress a laugh, of course, Renjun is adding to his long-term media project about supernatural and unexplained things. Renjun, a media and journalism major, has concentrated all his projects thus far on what his professors call “alternative explanations.” He gets along well with Hyuck, who dabbles in witchy things like spells and tarot. 

“I’ll come. You’ll need a local to keep you from getting lost in the fields.” Jeno says. “But only if it’s not too dark,” he adds on. Renjun opens his mouth to reply, but before he can Donghyuck interjects, not even looking up from his phone where he’s lying, head in Mark’s lap. 

“Next week is the full moon. Lots of power, lots of light. Pretty good for protection,” he says, matter-of-fact. Renjun sighed.

“Was about to say that. It’ll be fine, Jeno. Besides, we’re not looking for spirits so we can use lanterns or flashlights.” Jeno nodded in agreement, looking far more assured, he smiled brightly, eyes smushing. Renjun returned the grin and Chenle threw his arms around the both of them from his spot in between. 

“So the only loser not coming is Mark?” Chenle teased. All eyes turn to Mark, who has been very quiet this conversation. He’s absentmindedly running his fingers through Hyuck’s hair, staring at the ground. Upon realizing the attention on him, he looked up, straight at Jeno. 

“You really think this is a good idea? Even with us as guides, those fields are mazes. Plus….” Mark trailed off, lips settling in a hard line. Jeno mirrors his expression, eyes losing focus slightly. An oppressive silence falls over the group, a quiet somberness filling the space between the bookshelves. 

“Mark, that was what, when we were three? Four?” It’s Jeno’s turn to trail off and they all hold their breath. 

“I know, Jeno,” Mark replied, voice weary. “It’s… it’s silly to be so concerned now. You’re right. And those kids were much younger than us now.” Mark’s expression settled into something only Hyuck can read. Understanding dawned in his eyes from Mark's lap, but it goes unnoticed by the others. “I’ll come too. The more the better.” There’s a silent agreement made then, a pact. No matter what, they all come back. The corn can get unsettling, especially to those of the group who grew up in suburbs and cities, used to towering steel and hard streets, not confusing fields and soft dirt. 

🌾

Now, on the long dirt road, Mark's hesitation seems fair. They come upon the fork in the road, as Renjun promised. "Which way again?" Jeno asks, pausing at the mouth of the split, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Chenle, sweeping the flashlight slowly across both options. Neither looks particularly inviting, dark tunnels of corn with no end in sight, just creeping shadows, lengthened by the full moon.

"Right," Renjin replies. The group moves as one mass as they head down the right fork.

"Do we have to enter the corn at some point?" Chenle asks, his voice sounding thin, as if the dirt and corn dampened all the echo, took away his volume.

"In a way," Renjun starts, looking up from his print out to face Chenle, who's slightly behind him, as they walk. "There's a small access road that we'll have to take to get to the crop circles, but it's supposedly narrow." Chenle scrunched his nose slightly at the notion, looks a bit sick until Jeno slips a hand around his. Mark, from the back of the group, speaks up.

"The circle is still there?" he questions. Renjun hums an affirmative.

"Yeah, this one is only about a month old. The farm it's on is currently abandoned, the town uses volunteers to keep the harvest on it, but there's no owner anymore. Since it's not harvesting time yet, the circle hasn't been touched." Renjun explains. Mark's lips press together. Abandoned corn fields rarely hold good news, in Mark's experience. 

As they make their way along the edge of the field, the faint smell of rotting corn and tinges of sulfur brought back the story Mark had told the day they met, of a man living alone on a corn farm, unknown to the town council. Of a man who made children disappear with little left but some bloody bones and a stench of sulfur. The more superstitious members of the town had begged the investigators to look for signs of supernatural explanations, but everyone was assured it was merely the work of a twisted man, whom they had caught. A shudder slithers down Chenle's spine.

"Crop circles don't have anything to do with ghosts, right?" he asks, hesitantly, pressing closer to Jeno as if searching for warmth.

This time its Donghyuck who answers. "There isn't any known connection. There's some lore on demons and summoning associated with crop circles, but almost all paranormalists link crop circles to aliens." It almost sounds reassuring.

They walk in relative silence after that, only Renjun guiding them through turns as the group comes across them. The only sign of time passing is the growing chill of the air, a once-pleasantly cool breeze now causing shivers as it whispers by the traveling teens. When the moon has reached its zenith, Renjun calls for them to stop. 

“Right here, this is the access road I mentioned.” He points out to his right and unease weighs the hearts of several of the investigating group. 

“That’s… not a road,” Donghyuck says, skeptical, pointing towards the strip of beaten-down corn. It probably was barely wide enough for a crop rider to fit between the stalks at its original creation, but now it’s fallen into disrepair. “Will we even fit?” He questions, looking towards Renjun. 

Renjun glances at the rest of his friends, and sighs. “If we go in pairs. Stick together, Jeno and Chenle right behind me; Mark and Hyuck, take up the rear. Try to stay within arm’s length of the people in front of you.” Apprehension grows in the eyes of the group. Mark sets his jaw, but his fingers shake around the flashlight he carries. Next to him, Hyuck slides a hand between his quivering fingers, steadying him slightly. 

“If this is how outgrown the entrance is, we should expect it’ll get tight further in,” Jeno warns. Nods go around their cluster. Someone’s teeth chatter on a hard shiver as a gust of wind sends icy fear down the back of their shirts. There’s a pregnant pause, a hesitation not unlike the holding of a breath, everyone waiting to see if someone else will speak up and call off their quest. The growing tension snaps viciously when a loud rustle is heard amongst the corn just off the path and Chenle squeaks in surprise. He clings to Jeno’s arm and the rest of the explorers flinch in reaction. Renjun takes the lead and opens his printout sharply before turning and starting down the access road. He can hear the crunch of Jeno and Chenle following him, the hesitant scuff of Chenle’s shoes. The only sign of Mark and Hyuck is the faint glow of Mark’s flashlight accenting Renjun’s shadow. It unsettles Renjun, the way his shadow stretches upwards amongst the corn on either side, appearing in the corners of his vision as a perpetual predator, stalking him from just out of sight. 

They walk cautiously now, but with more urgency. No one speaks, the only sounds faint breathing and the rustle of the beaten-down corn stalks under their sneakers. Every once in awhile the corn rustles and someone flinches, nerves drawn tight and senses on high alert. After what feels like an eternity, Renjun raises his hand for them to stop. He turns to face his friends. 

“If I’m right we should be coming up on the outer edge of the crop circle in a few minutes. Keep your eyes and ears open. I’m not expecting to run into anything, crop circles this old are just remnants, not active sites.” Renjun briefly wonders how he ended up here if this is truly what his life is now. Leading his friends to visit relics of extraterrestrial life. He and Hyuck had investigated far creepier areas earlier this year, mostly alone, but something about being in the middle of an abandoned cornfield is much worse than a supposedly haunted hotel room or house. Especially with the history and legends surrounding this particular field hanging over all of their heads, feeding on the anxiety in their hearts. 

The last stretch goes by quick enough, some of their initial anxiety fading to a low buzz of nerves as the more squeamish members of the group adjust to the rustling corns. Chenle can’t shake the prickling up his neck, the sensation of being watched. But every time he sweeps his gaze over the corn nothing is to be seen. Shadows ripple alongside their group but Jeno murmurs that it’s merely his own that’s trailing just out of view. The corn thickens around them, and Renjun calls that they’re practically there. Chenle’s unease is growing, twisting in his stomach like snakes trapped. He parts his lips, sucks in a deep breath, and gags. 

A thick, acrid smell envelops the groups, surrounding them like a pack of hyenas poised to strike. Renjun and Hyuck cough violently and Chenle turns away from Jeno to throw up in the corn directly off the path. “What is that?” Jeno asks, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose. Mark looks like a deer in headlights, totally frozen behind his flashlight. 

“It smells dead!” Chenle exclaims while rinsing his mouth with the water offered by Jeno, the older boy rubbing Chenle’s back soothingly. The cluster turns towards Renjun, searching for answers. He looks shaken, and he swallows thickly. Ahead of them, at the mouth of the access path where it opens into a large, flat circle, is a rotting corpse. From their position at the entrance of the circle, they can see a pale, white skull in the center, surrounded by blood trails dribbled into arcing sigils. Several more mounds of rotting flesh dot the edges of the sigils, tinted a grey-yellow with sulfur and ash. Chenle gags again and several others bite back the bile rising in their throats. The head of the closest corpse is a bloody skull, the flesh scratched away in large tears. It lies in a pool of dark blood, so thick it looks black under the moonlight. The stench of death and sulfur is so potent it presses against their arms and chests. 

“I...I don’t know. Maybe something stole cattle nearby and brought it here?” Renjun suggests weakly, and Jeno whips his head toward Mark. 

“Are we calling it?” Mark blinks for the first time. Hyuck frowns and tugs on the hem of Mark’s hoodie, the move childish and petulant and _concerned_. 

“Mark? Call what?” Renjun asks. 

Finally, Mark takes a rattling breath. “Yeah. Come on, Renjun move in the middle, Jeno take up the rear. We’re leaving.” The corn shifts around them, agitated, and the group pulls tighter together, hands reaching for each other. 

“But--” Renjun starts before Jeno squeezes his shoulder. 

“Junnie, something is very dead right there. There are blood sigils and traces of sulfur everywhere. We need to go back to the main road. Whatever these crops circles mean--”

Hyuck cuts Jeno off. ‘Or whatever was summoned here.” 

Jeno nods tightly, “It’s not worth it.” Jeno gently pushes Renjun ahead of him and Chenle, and Mark leads them back the way they came at a brisk pace. In the distance, a rustling of the corn echoes like footsteps. Their pace speeds up, hearts thudding loudly in chests and adrenaline buzzing under their skin like the carrion flies on the cattle corpse. 

The corn shifts around them as they move, stirred to life by a breeze unfelt against their heated skin. Suddenly Mark throws an arm out and the group lurches to a halt. “There’s a fork,” he calls out, voice tight with panic. “Did we pass a fork on our way in Renjun?” All eyes turn towards their leader, all 5 pairs in the field. 

Renjun swallows, the paper in his hands crinkling loudly as he clenches a fist. “No, I don’t think so. All the maps point this out as a straight access, no offshoots.” His voice trembles, breaking on the last syllable. His lungs are frozen, too tight to take in a breath. Donghyuck reaches out and places a gentle hand over Renjun’s steadying him. It’s grounding, allows him to manage a shaky exhale and labored inhale. 

“Okay,” Mark starts, taking stock of the boys around him. “We split up. I don’t like it either,” he interrupts himself, holding a palm up at Jeno, who looks ready to object. “But between the summoning blood sigils and the sudden appearance of a fork? I don’t like this. I feel like we’re being cornered.”

“And splitting up solves that? So only half of us can die out here like those cattle?!” Jeno shouts. Chenle whimpers, tucking himself behind Renjun. Renjun feels his muscles twitch, wanting to reach out between his friends. He wants to break the fight up, they need to get out of here before whatever or whoever left those corpses gets to them, but he can’t. He’s frozen still, no limb responding to his desperate pleas to _move, just move Renjun, do something!_. 

“It’s not like that and you know it Jeno! But we double our chances of getting the fuck out of here and getting help or the police or _something_ if we split up.” Mark’s eyes are wet, as his voice. His shoulders shake with an emotion Renjun can’t place. He’s never seen Mark like this before, so distraught. Jeno lurches forward, fist up, but before he can totally close the distance Donghyuck pushes Jeno back, getting in between them. 

“Jeno, back off. Both of you, take a breath. We all need to breathe, clear our heads a bit.” Renjun follows the command, inhales as much air as his lungs will allow. And then coughs as he chokes, a thick, rotten smell invading his senses. 

“Guys…” Chalie pipes up weakly. “Please, please someone tell me they don’t smell that.” The corn rustles behind them, a dry crackling interspersed with the _shhhussh_ of parting corn. Renjun’s blood freezes in his veins, heart skipping a beat before thumping double time. Mark lets out a strangled noise, almost a whine. Jeno brandishes the flashlight in front of them, and the shadows seem to thicken, morphing into something not-quite solid. Chenle, who is nearest to the corn, jumps forward with a shout. 

“Something brushed my arm!” he screeched. The group shared a wide-eyed look before Mark grabbed Hyuck’s hand. 

“Go! Take the left, but just run!” They sprint off, Mark dragging Hyuck, who keeps glancing behind him to make sure the others are keeping up. Jeno pushes Chenle ahead of him and grabs Renjun, pulling him along. They made a pact, no man left behind. 

It seems like they’ll make it to the road, where the moon was brighter and the very occasional street lamp was a warm comfort, when a definite _crunch_ sounds behind them, right behind them. So close it almost echoed. The corn stretches tall, enclosing them. For a second the moon, so bright and pale leading them away from the circles with her light tinges red. 

“Go! Run!” Jeno calls out and their pace is renewed, stumbling over loose cornstalks on the path. There are more than when they entered for sure, but their pace remains unslowed. Chenle trips and stumbles, but is hauled up by Donghyuck and Jeno, and shoved along the pathway. The corn, eerie before, is ominous now, leering at the group. 

But the corn thins, right when Renjun thinks his legs are about to give out, his lungs burning and sharp stabbing pains in his side becoming almost unbearable. They burst onto the main road. It is still, except for heaving, panting breaths. Chenle throws up again, shoulders shaking. Mark keeps a flashlight trained on the corn where they emerged, clutching Hyuck close to him, but no shadowy figure follows them. There’s a final rustle amongst the corn, a phantom flash of red, and when the wind caresses them with a cool breeze it almost sounds like a disappointed sigh tinged with sulfur. They share a look of disbelief amongst themselves. The tense silence is finally shattered when Hyuck speaks up from his position clutching at Mark’s arm. 

“What the actual fuck?” It startles a sharp laugh from Renjun, high-pitched and hysterical. 

“I don’t know, Hyuck. I don’t want to know.” Nods of agreement go around the circle. Jeno tugs Chenle to his feet, brushing the other’s boys pants off gently and wrapping him into a tight hug. He pulls away but leaves an arm slung over Chenle’s shoulders. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” They collect themselves and begin the trek back to their dorms, arms linked and formation tight. But the way home feels so much quicker than the journey there and soon they’re standing at the door of their building, the first vestiges of sunlight peeking around the corners. They’re alive, they’re together. And the night is finally over. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, what a wild ride! I sincerely hope you enjoyed this fic, please leave a kudos and a comment if you did! You can also find me on twitter @iceice_ty!


End file.
